


Letters

by Squid_Ink



Series: The Eagle and the Cross [38]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Gen, Gift Fic, because I wondered how Addie knew Haytham was Edward's kid, i had this idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 17:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7183316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squid_Ink/pseuds/Squid_Ink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edward teaches Adewale is letters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nermallion](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=nermallion).



A gull watched as the men milled about on the dock. It rubbed its head along it's feathers before ruffling them. A man set down a barrel. "Alright," he said, turning to the big black man. "Thirty-two barrels of fresh water," he said. "As promised."

Ádewalé stared at the barrels. It looked like thirty-two but something seemed off about the number. "Are ya sure?" he asked.

"Sure I'm sure," the man said. "I counted 'em meself."

"Count them again, in front of me," Ádewalé insisted, he didn't think this man was being honest with him. Water was precious on a ship, more precious than gold in some cases.

"No, ye should trust me. I say there are thirty-two barrels, there are thirty-two barrels," the merchant protested. "Now pay up."

"I am not gonna pay until ya ha'e counted da barrels in front of me," Ádewalé growled. He didn't like being cheated, and he wouldn't allow the Jackdaw being cheated out of her water either. "Now."

"Whatcha gonna do? Ya're nothin' but a damn African. Probably a runaway slave too. I can get the constable down here an' clap ya in irons."

Ádewalé half drew his sword when a hand clapped around his wrist. "Is there a problem, lads?" Edward asked, a smile on his face as he looked between Ádewalé and the merchant.

"This your slave?" the merchant asked, jerking his thumb at Ádewalé. Edward reeled back, letting go of Ádewalé's wrist. He patted the big black man on the shoulder.

"Slave? No," Edward said, walking around Ádewalé to stand on his other side. "He's my quartermaster an' my friend. Now, is there a problem here?"

"This mon is tryin' ta cheat us," Ádewalé said. "I don't think dere is thirty-two barrels."

"I told 'im he's wrong. I counted them meself," the merchant protested. Edward ignored the merchant and quickly counted the barrels.

"There's twenty-two," Edward said. He looked at the merchant. "My quartermaster is right, you shorted us by ten barrels."

"That's a bloody damn lie," the merchant said.

"I counted them myself, there are only twenty-two, now," Edward said, "you can count them for us again to make sure I didn't make a mistake or get the other ten barrels."

"I'm no cheat!"

"Ten barrels short says otherwise," Edward said, smiling. The scar on his cheek distorted when did so. "So, what it'll be?"

"I'll be gettin' those ten barrels," the merchant muttered, walking off while he shouted orders to his men.

"Good job, Áddie," Edward said, patting his quartermaster on the back. He headed up the gangplank, shouting orders to the crew to get the barrels of water on board. "Oh, and Áddie," Edward called, turning to face his quartermaster.

"Yes, Edward?" Ádewalé called up to him.

"Let me count the barrels before hauling them aboard."

"Aye, Cap'n."

* * *

 

Edward stopped humming when Ádewalé walked up to him that evening. "Áddie," he greeted, "everything alright?"

"About today at port," Ádewalé began.

"No, think nothing of it," Edward said, waving his hand. He adjusted the Jackdaw's course slightly. "Men like that merchant try every way they can to swindle people."

"No, it's… I can't count," Ádewalé whispered, lowering his voice. "Nor read an' write. They don't teach slaves letters an' numbers."

"Oh," Edward said, feeling awkward. "Well… I can… get one of the lettered boys to help ya, y'know, like an assistant."

"No," Ádewalé hissed. "I do not want that. Teach me," he said. "Teach me letters and numbers. I do not want to be taken advantage of just because I don't know letters an' numbers."

"Alright," Edward said, "Me mam was a school teacher, she taught me. I can teach you." He looked about. "Riley! Get up here," Edward called, pointing to a lad. The young man pointed to himself, then scampered up to meet Edward.

"Yes, Cap'n?" he asked.

"Man the helm, Mr. Ádewalé and I will be havin' a moment in my cabin. Don't disturb us," Edward said. Riley stared between Edward and Ádewalé, the boy's eyes were big and around.

"Aye, Cap'n," Riley said, a foolish grin on his face, "take all the time ya need." Edward snorted and led Ádewalé to his cabin. Edward heard the quartermaster close the door as he lit a candle and shuffled around for ink, quill and paper. He pulled out a pencil and handed it to Ádewalé. The black man wrapped his fist around the delicate writing instrument.

"No, no," Edward said, going to Ádewalé's side and took the pencil. He held it in his hand. "You hold a quill or pencil like this," Edward said, pinching the pencil with his thumb and index finger and allowing it to rest against his middle finger.

"Alright," Ádewalé said, accepting the pencil back. Awkwardly, he mimicked how Edward was holding it. "Like dis?"

"Good, you'll get better at it," Edward said, pulling his chair around to Ádewalé. "Now," he dragged the inkwell, quill and some sheets of paper close to him. He wrote out the first letter. "This is the letter A," Edward said.

"A," Ádewalé said.

"Yes," Edward drew it again, slowly. "You try." He watched as Ádewalé slowly wrote the letter A on his piece of paper. "Good, very good," Edward said and wrote out a lower case a. "This is also the letter A."

"How?" Ádewalé asked. "The first one ya wrote is A an' now dis one is also A?"

"Yes, this is a lower case A or little a," Edward explained, "all letters have a upper case version and a lower case version."

"Why?"

"I… I don't know," Edward muttered. "That's just how it works. Mam never said why either."

"Hm."

"Anyway, let's continue," Edward said and patiently showed him each of the twenty-six letters and their lower case forms. He gently correct Ádewalé when he made a mistake and wrote any letter the other man had issue with over and over again. They had been cloistered in Edward's cabin for nearly two hours when finally, Ádewalé mastered the letter Z.

"Now, what?" Ádewalé asked, flexing his right hand. It was cramping, not use to holding a pencil.

"We'll end the night with you writing your name," Edward said.

"My name?" Ádewalé said, staring at Edward. He never saw his name on paper before. Nobody wrote slaves' names down on paper. They were just numbers in a ledger book.

"Yes, your name," Edward said. "Á-d-e-w-a-l-é. Ádewalé." Edward said, showing it to his friend. "That's your name Áddie."

"A. D. E. W. A. L. E." Ádewalé whispered as he wrote his name out with painstaking slowness. Ádewalé stared at the childish hand letters, squiggly like wriggling worms, but a sense of pride filled him. A pride at seeing his own name. A slave wasn't allowed to be educated, and even though he was free, no white man bothered to offer to teach him his letters and numbers. He felt tears prick his eyes. "Thank you, Edward," Ádewalé whispered.

"Your welcome Áddie," Edward said.

"What… what does your name look like… on paper?" Ádewalé asked.

"My name?" Edward blinked. "Alright," he muttered, pulling free a fresh piece of paper. "Edward. E.D.W.A.R.D." Edward said, writing out each letter clearly. "Do you want to see my full name?"

"No, Edward is good," Ádewalé said. "Is that it?"

"For tonight, tomorrow I'll teach you words that'll be important for being a quartermaster, then numbers, more words and figuring sums and differences."

"It all sounds… complicated," Ádewalé muttered.

"We'll go slow, but you seem to be a quick study," Edward said.

"Thank you again," Ádewalé said, standing up. "I appreciate this very much." Ádewalé left Edward's cabin. Edward stared at Ádewalé's work, wondering if his handwriting was as sloppy when he first learned how to write.

* * *

 

_London, England — 1732_

Edward looked up when he sensed someone was watching him. He watched as Haytham ducked behind the door. "Haytham," Edward said, "I know ya there son. Come out." Haytham inched his way into the doorway, sheepishly staring at his feet. "What are you doing sulking about, you little rascal? Trying to get a jump on me?"

Haytham's head shot up, slate eyes wide. "Oh, no!" Haytham protested. "It's just that… I… I saw the envelope… to the letters… to be sent out… one of them had just a name on it."

"All the envelopes have names on them," Edward said, beckoning Haytham closer. The boy trotted up to him. Stopping at his chair and clasping his hands behind his back. "One caught your eye didn't it?" Haytham nodded. "What did it say on it? Go on, tell me. You aren't in trouble."

"Ádewalé." Haytham said. "Who is he?"

"He's a friend. A very old friend."

"From when you were a pirate?" Haytham asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

"Me? A pirate? Who told you that? Surely not your mother," Edward said, scooping up his boy and setting Haytham on his lap.

"Jenny told me," Haytham said, "she told me she went to the West Indies to meet you and that she went to a pirate's cove."

Edward tossed his head back and laughed. "She's telling stories again."

"Jenny swears every word is true," Haytham protested. "Where you really a pirate? Is that why I'm not allowed to play with the other children?"

"No, no," Edward said, "it's not the reason. I'll tell you when you turn ten, as promise."

"Alright," Haytham sighed, trying not to show his disappointment at being denied further explanation. "Good night, Father," Haytham said as he slipped off Edward's lap.

"Night Haytham," Edward said, watching his son leave. He pulled out a fresh sheet of paper.

_Dear Ádewalé…_

**Author's Note:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft
> 
> Ádewalé knowing that Haytham was Edward's son made me wonder if Ádewalé and Edward kept in touch. Then I remembered that as a slave, Ádewalé wouldn't have been taught to read and write. A captain needs to know letters and numbers to be an effective captain. Ádewalé strikes me as the type of person that would want to do things himself. So, Edward teaches him letters and numbers. They write letters when Edward returns to England. Thus! Ádewalé knows Haytham is Edward's son. :3
> 
> Dedicated to nermallion on Tumblr.
> 
> Save an author; leave a review!


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